Red and Green
by JamiW
Summary: Stand-alone two-shot, post-ep for Watch.  All MC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This one is post-ep for "Watch"**

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><p><strong>Logan POV<strong>

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><p>This case had given me the creeps and I was more than happy to hand Art and Duane off to the waiting officers.<p>

There was something about Duane's vacant stare.

"You ever wonder why I don't have kids?" I said to Barek as I gathered up the photos from the table. "Now you know."

She was quiet and so I glanced up at her as I finished picking up the documentation.

She looked as shell-shocked as I felt.

Sometimes that happened.

We might catch a dozen killers in a month, but there'd be one who stuck out more than the others. One who came back in dreams.

I had a feeling that Duane might be one of those.

Art, although equally culpable, was just a bully and a brute. Obviously, I don't condone what he did, but I could understand it.

Duane was another story.

He was the type of guy who might shoot up a high school or set up a sniper's nest inside of a clock tower.

"Let's get out of here," I said, anxious to escape the bad vibe in the interrogation room.

Watching that video Duane had made where his caricature so callously blew away Art and his parents, as well as Barek and myself…well, like I said. I was ready to move on to the next case so that I could put this one in the past.

We went back into the squad room where I unceremoniously dumped the case file onto my desk while I mentally debated what type of quick take-out would be dinner for tonight.

I turned around to get my coat and was startled to find that Barek was directly behind me.

So close, in fact, that she had to sidestep quickly to avoid having me bump into her.

I looked at her quizzically, not used to having her in my back pocket.

"So where do you want to go?" she asked me quietly.

I stopped cold.

I was only partially through the process of putting on my coat, but her question threw me, stalling my movements.

Go?

Had we been given another case already?

Because I'd been working with Barek for three months already, and we didn't _go_ anywhere that didn't have something to do with work.

And that wasn't by my choice, but by hers. She'd been pretty clear about that line in the sand, and I respected her wishes.

So I kept staring at her as I tried to figure out what she meant, but instead of responding, she started drifting back towards her desk.

"Oh, I get it," she mumbled. "You didn't mean…"

"Barek," I interrupted. "What are you talking about?"

She turned back to look at me, and she actually looked slightly embarrassed.

"Never mind," she said, waving me off. She grabbed her coat from the rack and took off for the elevator. "I'll see you tomorrow," she added without looking back.

I stared at her for another minute while I tried to process what had just happened, and then I gave up on it and instead hustled after her.

"Hey, hold the elevator," I called out. The doors, which were almost closed when I yelled out, suddenly came back open.

"Barek, what the…" I began, and then I stopped because Deakins was on the elevator, too.

As much as I like our boss, I don't share my personal life with him.

And somehow I had the feeling that our conversation was going to be personal.

Just that thought alone intrigued me, but now I had to wait a few more minutes.

"Oh, hey, Captain," I said as I stepped onto the elevator. "I was just…"

"I said I'd type up the 509 tomorrow," Barek said easily, as though I'd come after her because of the paperwork on the case. "I wasn't going to leave you with everything."

"I didn't…oh. Okay," I said when it hit me that she was covering.

But covering for _what_?

"Nice work on that case," Deakins said. "Most other detectives would've written it off as a solo murder."

"No one's that good on the first go-round," Barek replied, deflecting his praise.

"Still…you two went with your gut. And now Carver's got a slam dunk. That's the kind of result I like to see."

The elevator opened up in the parking garage and Deakins and I both paused, letting Barek go out first.

"Good night," she said as she quickly headed for her car.

I tried to watch her without looking like I was watching her, because I wanted to know where she'd parked. As soon as I could shake Deakins, I was going after her.

Because I had to know…what was going on with her?

"You okay, Logan?" Deakins asked me, and I realized that I wasn't being too covert in my observation of Barek.

"Sure, Captain."

"Barek working out okay? It's been three months. Is the honeymoon over?"

"She's fine. She's a great partner," I said vaguely.

I could hear an engine start up, but Deakins was still standing firm in his effort to have a meaningful conversation with me.

"Good. Because I think she's helped smooth out your edges a little bit."

"What? Edges?" I asked distractedly.

"You've learned how to work a case without pissing everyone off," he clarified as he fought with himself not to smile.

"I don't always piss _everyone_ off," I argued lightly. "Just the guilty ones."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you two have found your rhythm," he said, slapping me on the back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked away and I started moving in the direction of the rumbling engine.

Barek drove an old clunker that was almost too big to fit into the parking spaces, so that, combined with the fact that her car's engine sounded like a Sherman tank, made it fairly easy to track her down.

She was just starting to back out of her parking space when I walked up to the driver's side and knocked on the window.

She put her foot on the brake and closed her eyes for a second.

I could see her lips moving and I knew that she was talking to herself again.

She did that a lot.

At first I'd thought it was pretty weird, but I was used to it by now.

I made the motion of rolling down the window since she was still just sitting there, and she finally bent down and cranked the handle, lowering the glass.

"Yeah?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah?" I repeated. "Barek, what gives?"

"What do you mean?"

For a moment, I looked at her in disbelief. And then I started to doubt myself.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

Her closeness, her embarrassment, her rush to leave…

And really, why was I pushing it so much?

Was it because on this particular case, watching her flirt with Duane to get a reaction from him had been somewhat arousing for me?

She had an arsenal of techniques she liked to use to cozy up to suspects, but it wasn't often she used her feminine wiles.

But she had with Duane, and I'd enjoyed watching her. It made me look at her slightly differently than I had before.

Or at least, it almost made me forget my steadfast commitment to _not_ look at her that way.

She finally brought her eyes up to mine as she leaned her head back against the seat and let out a heavy sigh.

"You don't let anything go, do you?"

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to be letting go."

"Then why are you following me?"

"Why are you running away from me?" I countered.

"Oh, for God's sake, Logan," she said in annoyance, and then she jerked on the door handle, opening up the monstrous door and getting out of the car. She slammed the door closed behind her and then glared at me. "I made a mistake, okay?"

"About what? And why are you so pissed?"

"You really don't have any idea."

I held out my hands, but words escaped me.

"This is even more embarrassing," she mumbled. Then she ran her hand through her hair and looked at me challengingly. "You said _let's get out of here_. I thought you wanted to go out for a drink or something. And then when I asked you where and you didn't know what I was talking about, I realized that I'd misunderstood. There, are you happy now?"

"You thought I was asking you out for a drink?"

"Yeah, I know. Crazy, right?" she said derisively. Then she tugged on the door handle again in an effort to get back into the car.

"Wait," I said, putting my hand on the door to keep it closed. "Not crazy. Just…you've never wanted to have a drink with me before."

"You've never asked. And apparently you didn't today, either, which is fine. Just…"

"Barek," I said firmly. "Let's go have a drink."

"I don't need a pity date."

I didn't point out that she'd just called it a date. Instead, I reached through the open window and pulled her keys from the ignition.

"Come on. We'll take my car. I feel better driving something that was built in this century."

Without waiting for her response, I walked over to my car and got in. She was reluctant, but after a minute, she came after me and got into the passenger side.

"You probably have plans," she began.

"I do. With you. We're going over to O'Doyle's for a few drinks."

She was quiet as I pulled the car out of the garage and headed north toward the tiny pub.

"My car's a classic," she said after a minute.

"A classic what? Scrap of metal?"

"It's a '56 Ford Fairlane," she retorted defensively. "It's got a 5.1 V8. I thought guys were supposed to know cars."

"I know cars," I replied, biting back a smile. "225 bhp, right?"

She glanced at me skeptically and then shook her head and turned to look out the window.

She was uncomfortable as hell and I felt partially responsible. Apparently avoiding the subject wasn't going to work.

"I've never asked because you seem to like to keep your distance," I explained.

"Why, just because I don't share my innermost secrets?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Honestly, I've never been partnered with a woman before. I wasn't sure of the etiquette. And besides, you never asked me either," I pointed out.

"That's true," she said quietly. "So what were you talking about when you said that?"

"Let's get out of here? I meant that room. Wasn't it creeping you out? I mean, that cartoon and his dead eyes…"

"Yeah," she said. "I know what I'm going to be dreaming about tonight."

"You, too, huh?"

It didn't take long to get to the pub, and I found a place to park only two blocks away.

When I cut off the engine, she paused before getting out.

"We don't have to do this," she said.

"Will you stop, please?" I replied with a half smile. "If I'd known you'd say yes, I would've asked months ago."

She smiled back and then turned to get out of the car.

But despite my confidence, I was still a little baffled about her motive.

Normally, I would've considered this a post-work kind of thing.

But she'd called it a date.

I was curious to see where this thing went.

Because I was certainly interested.

Just because I'd labeled her as off-limits didn't mean I hadn't had the random fantasy about her.

I definitely found her attractive.

But like I said, I'd never had a woman partner before.

Or not a permanent one, anyway. I was partnered with a woman briefly during my stint on the island, but I don't really count that.

And it's not that I have a problem with a female partner, because I don't. Barek's a great detective, a great partner.

But even if she hadn't given me the impression of indifference towards me, I still wasn't sure about the aspect of socializing with a partner of the opposite sex.

I mean, Lennie and I used to hang out during off hours fairly regularly, but no one would've ever accused us of sleeping together.

Of course, the rumors circulated regularly about Goren and Eames. They spent a lot of off time together. I didn't know whether or not they were sleeping together, but they apparently didn't care about the gossip.

_Or maybe they didn't care because it was true_, I pondered.

Huh.

I might have to quiz him on that one of these days.

But for now, I was curious to see what Barek had on her mind.

We went into the bar and spotted an empty table along the side wall.

The place was fairly crowded and it was frequented by cops, so I spent a few minutes making the rounds before I joined Barek at the table.

"You're a popular guy," she remarked when I sat down. I noticed that she hadn't spoken to anyone.

"I'm in here a few nights a week," I explained. "So are most of those guys."

I looked up as the waitress set down a pint of Beck's in front of me before looking expectantly at Barek.

"You have a usual," Barek said to me with a smile. Then she glanced up at the waitress and said, "I'll have whatever he's drinking."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a beer drinker," I commented after the waitress left.

"I've been known to float a keg or two."

I barked out a laugh at her unexpected reply and said, "Hopefully not by yourself."

"You know, beer is one of the world's oldest beverages," she said in that understated tone of hers. "Its history dates back to the 6th millennium, BC."

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "Should I even ask what other random facts you have stored in that brain of yours?"

The waitress brought Barek her glass, which she promptly picked up and took a sip.

"Beck's," she stated, correctly guessing the brand. "The brewery was founded in 1873 by Lüder Rutenberg, Heinrich Beck and Thomas May."

"Really? Huh. It's probably a good thing they went with Beck's name instead of Rutenberg. I'm not sure it would've caught on."

She chuckled at my lame attempt at a joke and then took another drink of her beer.

It was awkward for a moment, despite the liveliness of the crowd around us.

I really wanted to ask her why she was suddenly interested in spending time with me after work, but before I could say anything, she spoke up.

"I know a guy on the island."

"Staten Island? A cop?"

"Yeah," she said with a shrug. "Not a boyfriend or anything. Just a friend."

"Okay…"

"When I told him that you were my partner, he gave me the scoop on you."

"What kind of scoop?" I asked.

I wasn't sure I liked where this was going.

"I didn't ask him or anything," she said. "I just mentioned your name. It's not like I was trying to get dirt on you."

Now I _really_ didn't like the direction this was headed.

Had she heard something disparaging about me? Maybe she wanted to quit being my partner. Maybe that's what this drink-thing was all about.

"Just spill it, Barek."

"This is hard for me to say," she replied quietly. "And it's risky, so…just promise me that we'll talk about it."

I sat back in the booth, completely clueless as to what she was going to say.

Because first off, I'd kept my nose clean on the island. I couldn't imagine what kind of dirt anyone would have on me during my years there.

And before that…well, everyone knew about what had happened when I was at the 2-7.

I'd even said something to Barek about it already, mostly just to clear the air so that it wasn't the elephant in the room.

And secondly, I was now more than a little concerned that she was going to drop some kind of bombshell.

It was risky?

And she thought I might walk away without talking?

She tucked her hair behind her ear and continued to stare at me, apparently waiting for something.

And then it hit me. I was supposed to promise her that we'd talk.

"You're my partner," I said firmly, hoping to remind her of the importance of that fact. "You can say whatever you need to say."

"Okay," she said with a nod. "It was after the case with Judge Garrett. I called my friend because…well, because I wanted some advice."

"About me?"

"Uh huh. See…God, this is harder than I thought it would be."

She looked up toward the ceiling and began mumbling to herself.

"It doesn't have to be so damn hard. You're a grown woman. Just say it."

Despite my worry, I had to smile at her monologue. It was really a rather endearing quirk.

"Should I leave you alone to discuss this, or…" I teased lightly.

"I had a crush on you," she said suddenly. "And I've never been involved with one of my partners before, and I figured that it was probably a really bad idea, so I called my friend to tell him what was going on."

"You…had a crush."

"Yes."

"On me."

"Yes."

"Had?"

She smiled at my focus on her use of past tense, but I couldn't get over the words themselves.

She had a crush on me? But she'd never shown me any kind of sign at all.

"I was encouraged to get over it," she stated.

"By your friend?"

"He said that you…well, he said you were a real dog."

"I'm sure he meant that in the best possible way," I said sarcastically. I was starting to wonder about this friend.

"He said you'd been through every woman on the island."

"And he knows this…how?" I asked, doing my best to rein in my temper.

Who the hell was this guy?

And why was he trying to trash me like that?

I'm not going to say that I haven't been around the block a time or two, but I was always respectful.

And it hadn't been that damn many.

In the past ten years, I'd dated maybe a dozen women.

Since I'd gotten back to Major Case, I hadn't dated at all.

"Who is this guy?" I asked her.

"It doesn't matter. Look, I'm telling you this because it occurred to me that maybe he's wrong."

"Just now. So for the past six or eight weeks, you've thought you were partnered with a modern day Casanova. That's great. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he told you that so that you _wouldn't_ pursue it?"

"That's exactly why he said it," she agreed.

"I mean because maybe he wanted you for himself."

"What? No. We're friends."

"Yeah, some friend."

"So it _is_ made up," she said. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure and honestly, I've been burned so many times that I just didn't trust my own judgment…I'm sorry, Logan."

I was working really hard not to be pissed off, and I took a moment just to think this whole thing through.

The fact of the matter was that I'd been unknowingly cock-blocked by some guy on the island who had the hots for Barek, who in turn apparently had the hots for me.

Or at least she did.

I couldn't blame her for listening to him, considering she'd thought of him as a friend.

And she was coming clean with me now because she must have realized that I wasn't like that.

I needed to weed through the excess bullshit and get to the crux of the matter.

As far as our partnership went, her misconception was water under the bridge. It was irrelevant. We worked great together so no matter what she might have thought of me on a personal level, she hadn't let it affect her perception of me professionally.

Score one for Barek.

As for the personal matter, it bugged me more than a little because I'd always just assumed she was aloof on principle. She had no interest in cultivating any kind of relationship outside of work.

But apparently she did.

And even if the sexual attraction was gone, and she just wanted to be friends, I was good with that. I liked her and I wanted to get to know her better.

"I keep waiting for you to get up and leave," she admitted after I'd been quiet for several minutes.

"I don't break my promises," I replied.

"But you're mad."

"I'm…surprised."

"That I have a crush on you?"

"By everything. I misread your distance for disinterest," I answered, and then her wording sunk in. "Wait, have or had?"

"Well, I still think that partners in a relationship is a bad idea," she said carefully. "But I also can't help the way I feel. I'm definitely attracted to you."

"Attracted as in…you want to have dinner together sometime? Or does attracted mean that you're ready to tear my clothes off any time we're alone together?"

I said it in a teasing manner because that's my fall-back mode. She was being remarkably straightforward, and I knew that it had to be tough for her to lay it all on the line like that, and I just wanted to put her at ease.

It worked.

She laughed, ducking her head as she did so in a very feminine way. Then she looked up at me with those dark brown eyes and said, "The former."

"We can do that," I agreed with a nod.

"And maybe the latter," she added as a smile played on her lips.

"Well, why didn't you say so? I'd have taken you to my place instead of here," I joked. "Oh, wait. That would've been perpetuating that reputation, wouldn't it?"

"I didn't think less of you because of that," she told me, once again serious. "I just thought it would be better if things between us were strictly work-related. Like I said, I've been burned badly…more than once."

"You know, if you wanted to know about me, all you had to do was ask."

"I was supposed to just ask you if you'd slept with the entire female population on Staten Island?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, if I had then I'd probably be the type to be okay with talking about it," I reasoned. "But I didn't. Or at least I don't think so. Wait, how many women live on the island?"

She laughed again and then picked up her glass, tossing back the rest of her beer.

"And your friend," I added. "You're not going to tell me his name?"

"No, but I'm starting to think that maybe he's not such a friend."

"I'm telling you, it's because he wants you for himself."

"I don't know. Maybe."

The waitress stopped by our table to see if we wanted another round, but instead I asked for the check.

"Are we done already?" Barek asked me, and I was glad to see that she seemed slightly disappointed.

Because I wasn't done.

Not by a long shot.

"This is a cop bar," I reminded her. "Let's go somewhere else and have dinner. And then you can ask me anything you want to know."

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Logan POV**

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><p>"September 1st."<p>

"Come on, Logan."

"I'm serious."

"That was more than three months ago. That was right before we started working together."

"I'm telling you."

"And you remember the exact date," Barek asked me dubiously.

"I do," I said with a grin.

"Well…it must have been…memorable."

"It was my birthday," I admitted. "That's why I remember it. I ran into an old girlfriend in this bar in SoHo and…I don't know. I guess she felt sorry for me."

"I have a hard time picturing you as the type to inspire pity sex."

"Thank you. I think," I said on a chuckle. "So what about you?"

We were sitting in Piquant restaurant in Brooklyn. It had great food and better atmosphere and it was only a few blocks from my apartment, so it was perfect for our getting-to-know-you session.

We'd finished eating nearly an hour ago, but neither of us was ready to leave.

After escaping O'Doyle's, and after laying our cards on the table, we'd both relaxed considerably.

And I was currently thoroughly enjoying myself.

Especially since she'd been bold enough to ask me about the last time I'd had sex, so now I got to turn the question around on her.

Because the weird thing was that because we were partners, it already felt like this was at least a fifth or sixth date.

More, maybe even.

We knew the basics about each other and we were comfortable with each other, so we were already straying into topics that normally didn't come up until much later in a relationship.

And I know, this wasn't a relationship.

Maybe I should call it a friendship.

Although she _had_ mentioned an interest in tearing my clothes off at some point, so I wasn't going to rule anything out.

"I'm waiting," I prompted as I picked up my drink.

I'd moved on from Beck's to coffee. I had the feeling that getting drunk tonight was not recommended.

Initially, I'd figured that I would, in an effort to erase Duane and his disturbing stare from my brain, but now I didn't see that being a problem.

I had a feeling that Barek would be on my mind whenever I found my way to bed.

"Oh, I'm not sure if you have clearance for that kind of information," she teased.

That was something I'd learned about her. She has a really great sense of humor.

I mean, sure, she'd joked with me from time to time while on the job, but nothing like she'd done tonight.

"Come on, Barek. I showed you mine. Now you have to show me yours."

"What exactly is it that you showed me?"

"I gave you a specific date," I reminded her.

"Uh huh. And you mentioned an old girlfriend. Is she still in the picture?"

"No," I answered quickly.

"Yeah, but she was an old girlfriend even back then and yet you still…"

"She's married," I supplied.

"All of a sudden?"

"Uh…she was at her bachelorette party when I ran into her."

"You slept with a bride on the night before her wedding?"

"Hey, she asked me for one more time, for old times' sake. Who was I to argue?"

"And it _was_ your birthday," she added.

"Exactly. Although I guess maybe that does make me a dog, huh?"

"No," she said, reaching across the table to put her hand over mine.

It was our first real contact and I couldn't help but look down to get the visual of her hand resting against mine. It was strange how just that simple gesture gave me such pleasure.

"And I'm sorry that I ever considered that as the truth," she continued. "I shouldn't have listened to Matt."

"Matt? You mean Matt Haslet?"

Suddenly everything made perfect sense.

"Yeah," she answered, obviously surprised that I knew the guy's last name. "So you do know him."

"Oh, I know him."

Matt worked in the 123rd on the island. That wasn't my precinct, but there are only three on the island and we pretty much all knew each other.

But I would've known Matt anyway. His partner was a woman, Jenna Randolph. She and I had a brief affair about a month before I got approved for the transfer into Major Case.

The break-up had been ugly, but only because she'd made assumptions about my intentions. I hadn't led her on and I'd certainly never suggested any long-term commitment, but she'd apparently been hearing wedding bells.

She'd cried to her partner and in turn, he'd threatened to beat the crap out of me. I'd been more surprised by her devastation than by his warning because I understood his need to protect his partner, but still…

"Are you going to share?"

"I dated Jenna for a few weeks," I explained.

"His partner?"

"Yeah. It didn't end well."

"You dumped her?"

"I just told her that I thought it had run its course. She got upset and Matt got overprotective of his partner."

"Well, that explains a lot," she said. "He didn't want you to do to me what you did to her."

"I guess. But you know, he could've just told you about it and let you reach your own conclusion."

"He should have," she agreed.

"So how do you know him?" I asked, although I was almost afraid to know the answer.

I hadn't really liked Matt the first time I met him and my opinion of him had only gone downhill since then.

"He's a friend of my brother," she said. "When Tommy got transferred to San Francisco, he dubbed Matt as my new brother. He said I needed someone to watch out for me."

"Your brother doesn't know you very well, does he?"

She smiled and squeezed my hand briefly before pulling it away and picking up her cup of coffee.

"He worries. We were the last two Bareks still living here in New York, so he felt like he was ditching me when he got the transfer."

"I bet Matt called him, didn't he? He probably told your brother about me."

"He did," she admitted with a nod. "Tommy called me to ask about you, and I assured him that you treated me with nothing but respect. And that you didn't seem remotely interested in getting me into your bed."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

"And here I thought you were an astute detective."

"So you're saying…"

"I'm saying that I like working with you. And I didn't want an unwanted proposition to mess that up. And you have to admit it…you weren't exactly open to suggestion."

"I guess I believed the lie," she said slowly. "And honestly, I was a little hurt by the fact that you _didn't_ hit on me. I mean, to hear Matt tell it…oh, you know what? I don't want to talk about him anymore. I'm sorry that I ever listened to him."

"Me, too. Although maybe this is better. We've been working together for awhile now. We've taken the time to get to know each other. Because I've got to tell you…if you'd given me the green light in the beginning..."

"Then what?" she asked with a smile.

"I wouldn't have that sad little story to tell about my last sexual experience occurring over three months ago. Which reminds me…you still haven't come clean about yours."

She sighed heavily and propped her chin on her hand.

"You really want to hear this?"

"Maybe not. It's not Matt, is it?"

"No," she said quickly. "God, no. I don't look at him like that."

"Okay, then yeah. I want to hear it."

I said it confidently, but if she said yesterday or last week, I knew it was going to bug me.

Last month would be better.

Last year would be preferable.

"February. I don't remember the date, but it was late in the month, I think. I had to take a training class with the Bureau."

"So it was a fellow agent?"

"It was the instructor," she corrected.

"Ah, so you like older men."

"Actually, he was twenty-eight," she said. She chuckled and sat back in the chair, but she held my gaze as she continued her story. "It was a class on self-defense and he kept using me to demonstrate the techniques and…well, that's all I'm going to say about that."

February, I liked.

Twenty-eight, not so much.

"Was it a one-night stand?" I questioned.

"More like a seventy-two hour stand. But that was it," she answered. Then she smiled and added, "I did pass the class though."

"With honors, I'm sure. So what happened to the young stud after that?"

"I guess he's still at Quantico. I don't know. I never talked to him again."

"You dumped him?" I asked, echoing her earlier question.

"It was just sex, Logan. He hasn't even hit thirty yet," she said dismissively. "We had nothing in common and we never intended for it to turn into anything. You said it wouldn't bother you to hear about it."

"It doesn't," I lied. "Okay, so not too much. I just didn't know I'd be competing with a guy in his twenties."

"Competing? It was a fling ten months ago," she said pointedly. "Besides, I didn't realize that I'd given you the green light yet."

"Oh, you gave the green light," I said, shaking off my worry about being compared to a guy nearly twenty years my junior. "That light's been flashing for at least an hour now."

"You think?" she asked, returning my smile. "I don't know. Have you been tested for red-green colorblindness?"

We laughed together for a minute, and I was struck by how much I liked her.

I mean, yeah, I knew that I liked her but I mean _really_…and even though I'd been teasing her about sex, I had no expectations of that.

Not tonight anyway.

Maybe one of these days, though, because I thought we had a real connection.

Being partners might make it a little tricky, but I also thought it would make it better.

Like I said, we already knew each other better than most couples just because of our close working relationship. And now that we were taking the time to open up about other, more personal topics, I felt like I'd known her for years.

Although admittedly, I was a little worried about what might happen if we went forward and it didn't work out.

Would that mean she wouldn't want to work with me anymore?

Or would we both be able to be adult about it and continue our partnership?

"What's on your mind?" she asked me after I'd been quiet for a few minutes. She reached across the table again and this time I turned my hand over so that I could hold onto hers.

"This has been a lot of fun," I told her.

"I sense a but coming on."

"No buts. It really makes me wish I would've asked sooner."

"You didn't ask at all," she reminded me playfully. "I only _thought_ you did."

"Well, then I'm glad you had a rare moment of misinterpretation," I amended. "But…"

"I knew it," she interrupted, but she was still smiling.

I really, _really_ liked this side of her. The seriousness she showed at work was only part of the whole picture and honestly, if I'd seen the whole picture before, I might not have been able to stick to my self-imposed pledge to keep her at arm's length.

"But," I began again, matching her smile. "I like working with you. What happens after seventy-two hours when you realize that I'm much too young for you and we have nothing in common?"

She laughed at my sarcasm and I loved that she found the humor in it as opposed to getting defensive.

"Then I guess we'll just go back to being partners," she replied. "I mean, even when I believed what Matt said about you, I was still able to appreciate that you're an excellent detective. I can separate the two. Can you?"

I nodded thoughtfully, but didn't respond since the waitress had approached our table with the check. I quickly got out my credit card and sent her on her way before Barek had time to protest.

"You bought the beers at O'Doyle's," she argued.

"Uh huh," I agreed. "And call me old-fashioned all you want, but you called this a date, right?"

"Did I?" she asked with teasing confusion.

"You did. And even if you didn't, I'm pretty sure that's what it turned out to be."

"And the man is supposed to pick up the check on a date? Yeah, I think I will call you old-fashioned."

The waitress brought back my card and the receipt, so I scrawled out my name and put the card back in my wallet. Then I got up from the table and picked up her coat.

"I like to open doors and help with coats, too," I said as I held her jacket out for her. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"I'll let you know," she answered, slipping her arms into her coat sleeves.

We left the restaurant and walked toward the car, but despite the late hour, neither of us was in a hurry.

She took my hand in hers as we walked the two blocks to where I'd had to park.

"So you think my car is a clunker, huh?" she remarked.

"The Fairlane? No way. '56 was the first year they made it in a four-door hard top. And they bumped it from a straight six to the V8."

"So you _do_ know cars."

"I know just enough about a lot of things to get me into trouble," I commented as we got to my car.

She paused next to the driver's side door and then turned and leaned against it so that she was facing me.

"Well, I know a lot about a lot of things and you know what that gets me?"

"Any man you want?" I asked as I stepped a little closer to her. I was still holding one of her hands and so I picked up the other one, too.

"Hardly," she said. "More like the label of a nerd."

"Well, I think," I began as I moved even closer.

The thought to kiss her had crossed my mind and now I couldn't think of anything else.

And she didn't seem to mind my proximity.

In fact, she was looking up at me expectantly.

Of course, I was in the middle of a sentence…

"That smart is very sexy," I finished, and then I leaned down and kissed her.

She immediately responded and what started out as a hesitant first attempt turned into an impassioned and heated kiss that was at once familiar and arousing.

Maybe it was because I felt like I knew her so well, I don't know, but it was nothing like any first kiss I'd ever had before.

And then the first one gave way to the second and the third while we stood beneath the dim streetlight next to my car.

I finally had to force myself to pull away. I didn't want to, but we were on a public street.

And technically, this was our first date.

I needed to show a little restraint. A little decorum.

"You're every bit as good at that as I suspected," she said with a slow smile as I took a small step back from her.

"You've thought about it?" I asked, inordinately pleased with both the compliment and the suggestion of prior consideration.

"Once or twice," she said nonchalantly, and then she went up on her toes to kiss me one more time before walking around to the other side of the car.

I took a moment to breathe and gather my faculties.

I hadn't unlocked the doors yet and instead of just clicking the button, I walked around to where she stood and then unlocked and opened her door.

"I'm going to have to get used to this whole chivalry thing," she commented as she got into the car.

"Yes, you are," I agreed firmly.

I closed her door and then went back around and got in behind the wheel.

"Thank you for tonight," she said once I was in the car. "You know, at first I just figured it would be something to take our minds off of Duane."

"Well, hopefully it did that."

"I can't imagine I'll be giving him much thought tonight," she assured me.

"Good."

I was positive that I wouldn't be thinking about him at all. I was pretty sure that I would happily spend my night thinking about those kisses.

"It turned into a lot more than just a distraction, though, didn't it?" she continued.

"I'm glad you decided to tell me the truth. Otherwise, who knows where we'd be."

"We'd both be drunk right now, still sitting in O'Doyle's, talking about everything except what we really wanted to say," she predicted.

And she was probably right.

"So, I can take you home and then swing by and pick you up in the morning," I offered as I started the engine. "Or I can take you back to the garage tonight so that you can get your car."

"Or you could just take me to your place," she suggested softly. I looked at her in surprise, but she just raised an eyebrow at me and added, "It'll save you some driving time."

"Okay, I think I'm confused again. Is that light red or green?"

"It's green."

**The End**


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